


stay with me all night (only twenty four hours is not enough)

by Anonymous



Category: GOT7
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Kim Yugyeom, Canon Compliant, Grinding, M/M, Making Out, Porn with Feelings, Top Park Jinyoung (GOT7), i am back on my jingyeom bullshit, jinyoung is soft for gyeom and then gets his dick sucked: the fanfic, this is just 4k of them nearly fucking in their 25 outfits with no explanation for how or why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: jinyoung doesn’t quite know what he’s doing.there’s a small part of him that recognises the incoming exhaustion that will settle in his very core. his jumper sticks to where sweat has pooled during hours of performing and his hair is plastered to his forehead and he’s well aware that as the sun rises behind the hotel room curtains, he’ll hate himself for not even attempting to rest.but hating himself is a little hard to do when he’s far too preoccupied with loving someone else.
Relationships: Kim Yugyeom/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 5
Kudos: 145
Collections: Anonymous





	stay with me all night (only twenty four hours is not enough)

**Author's Note:**

> me?? writing a got7 fanfic??? who am i and what have i done with the real mikey
> 
> it's been so long since i actually did something for my fave boys and technically this isn't even new. i began this in february of last year and it's sat in my google docs drive untouched for months. i was aimlessly scrolling through my abandoned works to distract myself from what's going on in my other main fandom and found this, something i had worked very hard on but then hit a road block with and just stopped writing. i had a lot more planned for this fic but i know with the way i am physically and mentally, completing it would be pretty impossible, so i've just added a few paragraphs to finish it off. so i guess this is kind of incomplete but rip i had no inspiration to continue on to the sappy love confession i had planned ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

jinyoung doesn’t quite know what he’s doing.

there’s a small part of him that recognises the incoming exhaustion that will settle in his very core. his jumper sticks to where sweat has pooled during hours of performing and his hair is plastered to his forehead and he’s well aware that as the sun rises behind the hotel room curtains, he’ll hate himself for not even attempting to rest. 

but hating himself is a little hard to do when he’s far too preoccupied with loving someone else.    


jinyoung has stared enough at the dip of yugyeom’s cupid bow to know that he had developed a sort of, tiny, barely there obsession with what it would be like to maybe, just maybe kiss the other. it’s the kind of thoughts he’d only ever blurted out at three am, a little bit more than tipsy with jaebeom flicking him on the nose and calling him an idiot for even bothering to pine after their very clearly straight maknae. now, jinyoung realises all of them may have made a wrong deduction somewhere along the line. 

the velvet of yugyeom’s suit is soft underneath jinyoung’s hands, almost as soft as the gentle way his lips press against jinyoung’s own. yugyeom kisses so differently from the manner in which he commands the stage, confidence melting to shyness as an audience melts to two people alone. his hands are curled over jinyoung’s jaw, shaking slightly as they pull him in closer, ever so closer, dragging him into the confusing enigma that is kim yugyeom. 

jinyoung’s hands hover by his side, utterly unsure of what to do with them. there’s so much of yugyeom, long legs that go on for miles leading up to his torso and the high expanse of his neck, and jinyoung wants to touch all of him, every inch, all at once. yugyeom tilts his head, slots their lips together more firmly with his arms slipping loosely around his neck, his fingers tugging barely at the hair resting at jinyoung’s nape, letting out a small hum of content - and jinyoung caves, fingers skimming over his thighs, curving over his hips and settling in the dip of his waist. 

he’s lucky, maybe. yugyeom towers over everyone and it’s been years since he’s seen eye to eye with the maknae, but he doesn’t have to go onto his tiptoes to reach yugyeom’s pretty, inviting lips. they break away for breath - and jinyoung catches a glimpse of hooded eyes and long eyelashes that brush over his cheeks and the flush that spreads all the way up to his ears and the moles dotted across his mostly makeup free face - and suddenly, even when he’s gulping in air, jinyoung feels breathless, punched in the gut by the sight alone. 

jinyoung strains up, overestimating the height difference between them slightly so their noses bump together. yugyeom’s nose scrunches cutely and jinyoung blinks at him, dazed by the fact that he’s even in this moment, with yugyeom’s form held tightly against his own. “jinyoungie.” it’s a whine, high-pitched and sweet and utterly characteristic of yugyeom’s unusual tone, and it breaks jinyoung out of his reverie. “stop daydreaming and kiss me more.”

he huffs out a laugh, because even when jinyoung has him pinned against the wall, even when jinyoung has him exactly where he wants him, even when jinyoung could do whatever his heart desires to him and yugyeom could do nothing but take it, yugyeom can still muster up the nerve to boss him around. “brat,” he comments fondly under his breath. “are you really that needy?”

there’s more teasing he could do, more taunts resting on the tip of his tongue, but he suddenly finds his mouth preoccupied. yugyeom bends forward, twinkling eyes flitting up to meet jinyoung’s stare as one corner of his mouth perks up in a smirk. “the thing is that i really am that needy. i really want you, hyung,” he whispers unexpectedly, lips hovering just above jinyoung’s own, enticing and so tempting. yugyeom opens his mouth and jinyoung expects more words, expects the younger to do his best in harassing him till he snaps, but instead teeth sink into his bottom lip and he can only gasp as yugyeom sucks at the flesh until it snaps back into place.

it is - or was - an unspoken truth that yugyeom hates being anything other than independent. attempting to coddle him in the early years had been a hellish task that jinyoung had quickly grew tired of and as time passed by, and as protective instinct became something sharper, something a little more lust-driven, it became routine to treat yugyeom as an equal, rather than the maknae. and while jinyoung still, sometimes, when he peers upon yugyeom falling asleep on his feet in the middle of an airport in the early hours of the morning, feels the urge to take care of him, calling the other needy, vulnerable, became an insult, almost. it seems like yugyeom has to keep proving him wrong.

yugyeom presses a single kiss at the corner of jinyoung’s mouth, litters several over his skin and mouths at where his neck meets his jaw, his giggling muffled when he feels jinyoung’s form stiffen against him. in another time, this would be a softer situation, with yugyeom’s face buried in the curve of his shoulder - but with their bodies pressed so tightly together, jinyoung can feel every ridge and bump, and the heat grows stronger till jinyoung feels like he’s aflame with the desire running through his veins. “i wasn’t thinking properly when i made the choreography,” yugyeom murmurs, peering up so alluringly, pupils blown. “i should have never included the belt, hyung. watching you on stage makes me feel like i’m gonna lose control.” what yugyeom’s saying sounds like a bare effort to have him spiralling past the bounds of his self-restraint, but there’s honesty to it too, and jinyoung is drunk on the idea that yugyeom yearns for him just as much as he pines for the other. “i’m sick of waiting. i just want you inside of me.”

jinyoung is quite sure something shatters inside of him, and maybe it’s the chains of discipline crafted from years of knowing that touching a member like this, so intimately with his lulling voice begging for more, was forbidden. subconsciously, behind the wall of  _ oh my god i’m kissing yugyeom and he’s kissing me back _ , there was growing worry of what will come after all this is done, when he’s panting into yugyeom’s skin and morning light casts across the room and the glowing facade of this being allowed finally cracks to their manager barging through the door. jinyoung is too careful, always has been, prioritising what was expected of him over what was good for himself, and maybe now, maybe this, is something he deserves. yugyeom always tells him to take risks. maybe he should take his advice and break the rules for once. 

his fingers twine into the strands of hair that curve over yugyeom’s nape, and yugyeom looks up at him, still nosing at his neck, playfulness that transformed his face softening back to the naivety that makes his eyes wide and innocent and pure, as if he wasn’t just playing carelessly with jinyoung’s lust. there’s pink radiating over the bridge of his nose, like he’s shocked at his own boldness. jinyoung wants to kiss him hard till his chest is heaving and his face is blotchy bright red and all he can feel, see, touch is jinyoung.

his grip is tight, almost too tight, and yugyeom becomes pliant against him, no more flirtatious comments echoing in the silence of a hotel at one in the morning. slowly, his locked fingers direct yugyeom’s head to tilt till their gazes connect, spare hand kneading at his side with a gentleness that doesn’t match the rather sinful thoughts clouding jinyoung’s mind. yugyeom sighs softly when jinyoung dips forward to kiss him again, hands clenched in the thick fabric of his jumper as his eyes flutter shut. jinyoung’s don’t. he desires to see this, craves the sight, wants to witness it in reality rather than in his own head with a hand down his pants and observe yugyeom falling to pieces from a front row seat. 

jinyoung licks broadly over the seam of yugyeom’s mouth, and as his lips part, the rest of him unfolds, blossoming like a flower in the springtime. it’s ornamented, the comparison, because for a boy who grinds on the floor at any given chance, jinyoung truly finds it far too difficult to eroticise him so blatantly, even when he’s pushing a thigh between the other’s open legs. yugyeom slumps down the wall, a moan crawling up his throat but barely cutting through the heavy air, muffled as jinyoung ravages him like a man gone feral. 

it’s a quick transformation, the move from barely there caresses to heavy petting, but jinyoung doesn’t think either of them can be blamed for it. jinyoung laps into his mouth, starved, the press of his lips and the curl of his tongue intense. he can sense it, that warning alarm in the back of his head telling him to stop for a second, to slow down. but the practical side of him is waning, beaten down by the passion, overwhelming, that floods jinyoung even when yugyeom is just looking at him from across the shining stage. now that they’re hold together so tightly by yugyeom’s clinging hands and their burning lips, jinyoung knows in surety that he couldn’t be stopped.

jinyoung’s hand shifts, sliding from the waves of messy hair he runs his fingers through one last time to the small of his back, where it settles in the dip and pushes yugyeom to arc, just a little. in turn, his leg slips more solidly into the gap between yugyeom’s thighs, no longer brushing over the most intimate part of him but rather pressing forcefully against it till a choked noise is shared between their kiss. yugyeom sounds delectable, even with the pretty little sound silenced by the frantic way jinyoung devours his lips, and jinyoung can’t prevent himself from pushing for more, more, more.

yugyeom put his dancer’s grace to good use, a fluidity to the slow roll of his hips that jinyoung knows he couldn’t manage himself, not when he’s blazing with lust, so hot that even the warmth of the younger’s fingers feels chilling when they ghost over his jaw. it’s exhilarating, the fact that he can feel yugyeom growing harder and harder against him, that he can sense the developing thirst in how yugyeom tries to meld them even closer together. yugyeom rocks against him, gently at first, but the need for friction grows stronger until the pace and rhythm of his thrusts turns irregular and jolting. chest heaving, yugyeom separates their kiss even as jinyoung chases him subconsciously, soft little  _ ahs  _ escaping as he rests his head back against the wall, eyes half-lidded and hazy and looking through jinyoung as he isn’t even there. and, well, jinyoung can’t have that. 

jinyoung slips his leg free as effortlessly as it slid into place, barely bothering to hide the grin that follows when yugyeom recognises the sudden lack of pressure, swollen lips twisting into a pout. “hyung, why’d you-” the younger begins to whine, but jinyoung is fast, adrenaline rushing through his sore limbs as he bends and fits his palms into the dip of yugyeom’s knees and lifts all of yugyeom’s giant frame into his arms. jinyoung may not be the strongest of the group, but he’s been building up muscle for a while now and yugyeom’s light, light in a way which matches his sunny attitude and the thinness of the fingers that claw for purchase on jinyoung’s shoulders.

yugyeom squeals at the unexpected shift, shrill in his shock and scandalized scarlet when jinyoung aligns them perfectly, crotches pressed together so jinyoung can finally chase his own relief. the pitchy noise brings a grin of amusement to jinyoung’s face but the slide of their hips wipes it away just as quick as it appeared, his head dropping lazily to yugyeom’s shoulder at the feeling of pleasure that sparks quickly through him. as their hips grind and a groan tumbles unwillingly from jinyoung’s lips, his eyes peek flesh through the revealing neckline, inches of unmarked skin from the curve of his chest to the peak of his collarbones and up his neck, partially hidden by a chocolate-coloured choker. jinyoung’s mouth waters involuntarily. he could blemish it, paint it with bruises and let everyone know that, even just for a passing moment, yugyeom was all his, and even if his better judgement wins out, it doesn’t mean he can’t at least let his lips glide over the space.

yugyeom’s skin is scorching, still slightly slick with sweat, silky against the plush of jinyoung’s lips. the tightening of his grip around yugyeom’s thighs is probably going to leave fingerprints embedded into his paler skin, marks he could press against on the rare, lucky days the other wears shorts - and the little noise that yugyeom cries when jinyoung licks at the curve of his neck has him tipsy on that high-pitched voice jinyoung has loved ever since it whispered concerns into his ears when they were young and stupid and yugyeom’s face was still full of baby fat - and they are both grinding against each other like lusty teenagers, the scratch of fabric and their heavy breaths echoing in jinyoung’s ear, like a brand new song he’d play on repeat for hours if he could. jinyoung’s a mess, mouthing at yugyeom’s flesh as his heart pounds frantically in his far too weak chest, still delirious. 

“hyung,” yugyeom moans, and it’s meant to be a generic term, one that jinyoung hears multiple times a day and truly lacks any meaning but respect, but it sounds so indecent. it’s jinyoung’s fault, really. he’s convinced that even if yugyeom murmured the most innocent and virtuous of words right now, his debauched brain would somehow twist it till it was lewd and obscene. it’s a curse, because no matter what he’s doing, yugyeom always manages to either turn jinyoung on or endear him even further till his heart feels full of fondness and ready to explode.

yugyeom’s hands slip from his shoulders, curling around his biceps and squeezing feebly at the muscle there. “you’ve gotten really strong, jinyoung-hyung.” it comes out in a shuddering, praising gasp as jinyoung carefully scrapes his teeth over the ridge of yugyeom’s bones. jinyoung’s gaze flitters up even with his mouth focused on its current task and it’s a mistake, distracted by yugyeom’s shiny lips loose and pleasure forcing his face a forever darkening shade of pink. he wonders, when yugyeom is inevitably underneath him, writhing against white sheets, how red those high cheekbones will flush.  _ you drive me crazy, _ jinyoung thinks, and he wants to engrave those words in yugyeom’s skin, watch each syllable unfold over his skin, wants everyone to know that he’s out of his mind for this boy.

the younger is clearly appreciative of jinyoung’s physique, but jinyoung can feel his strength slipping away from struggling to stay grounded, hands trembling where they’re clutching yugyeom’s thighs. his body buzzes with a mixture of old exhaustion and this brand new energy that spreads across his body from where yugyeom’s fingertips rest and it’s too much, overloading, overwhelming. with every brush of his lips against yugyeom’s neck, comes a pounding in his chest and a shake in his legs. as much as he wishes he could keep yugyeom pinned here, he can’t protest against his own limitations.

his arm cradles the arch of yugyeom’s spine, knuckles turning pale from the force exerting on his joints, desperate to not drop the pair of them to the ground. his lips slip, damp from the sloppy kisses that had just decorated yugyeom’s skin seconds prior, nose skimming over soft skin as he quietly speaks. “hold onto me,” he mumbles, voice almost hidden by the sound of his heartbeat thumping in his ears, barely giving yugyeom time to react before he’s stumbling, near blind with his face buried in the others’ neck. yugyeom doesn’t reply, trembling in jinyoung’s arms, quivering hands wound around his shoulders - and jinyoung can’t guess if it’s the winter chill or the exhilarating arousal that has him a shaking mess, but he hopes that his own delirium is matched, that yugyeom is losing himself in jinyoung’s lips and touch and the heat building in his core. 

the bed is a cushion to jinyoung’s struggling limbs, but he’s more focused on how yugyeom fits so not-perfectly on his lap, too long legs spread across jinyoung’s thighs and dangling awkwardly over the edge. yugyeom’s towering over him, his big nose brushing over the crinkles of jinyoung’s messy hair and it’s so unlike him to be so unkempt, the folds of his clothes leaving permanent wrinkles and the skin of his face patchy with red and his want to stay level-headed stuttering. it’s so quiet - yugyeom unfolding his grasp and settling back to skim his fingers over the curve of jinyoung’s cheek - and jinyoung looking up into foggy eyes, blue contacts still in and black eyeliner still smudged around the edges, with an open mouth saying nothing - and it’s so unlike the both of them. yugyeom’s a bouncy ball of energy who speaks too much and thinks too little, and jinyoung’s the demon on his shoulder who pokes holes in his optimism and taunts till they’re both at breaking point. but now, they’re both silent, eyes drawn to each other in softness. 

_ is this really happening? _ jinyoung wants to ask, but the words are caught in his throat by his own caution. there’s a fear that anything, any word, any move, any breath, could break the illusion, could have the two separating suddenly. and, so, he doesn’t speak. he lets his hands do the talking for him and sweeps yugyeom into a kiss that’s a tad too full of tongue and teeth to be perfect but the responding moan of approval is enough to make up for their clumsiness. jinyoung is overcome with yugyeom, iced choco on his lips and faint perfume by his nose and pale velvet on his skin, senses submerged. willingly, jinyoung would drown in him, sink under the covers and let yugyeom kiss the air out of his lungs. yugyeom’s a siren and his song is dragging jinyoung down in to the depths and jinyoung is his unprotesting victim who can’t find it in him to protest. this moment should only exist in fantasy and yugyeom is as ethereal as the creation of a daydream, but he’s here, he’s real and he’s falling apart so eagerly in jinyoung’s arms.  _ yes it is. _

it’s a hassle to slip the younger out of the harness decorating his chest, fingers fumbling over the buckles, but jinyoung can’t bring himself to stop kissing yugyeom for even a split second. the mess of straps falls to their feet but jinyoung barely hears it over the rustle of their clothing and the rapid heartbeat shaking through his skull and the never-ending rise and fall of his chest with each heavy intake of breath. the buttons on his jacket are next, slipped easily out of place so jinyoung can brush his hands over the smooth plane of yugyeom’s stomach. yugyeom sighs into his lips, skin sensitive to the warmth of jinyoung’s fingers spreading over his chest. there was always amusement to be found in the reactions yugyeom easily offered up to anything stimulating to his delicate form, and a feeling between arousal and mirth fills jinyoung when his nails scrape over a nipple and yugyeom moans, loud even when muffled by the meeting of their mouths. his fingers, nimble and quick, tug and rub and twist till yugyeom’s squirming on his lap and breaking the kiss for much needed air. 

yugyeom’s breaths are short and quick, no strength to the balled up fists that push at jinyoung’s shoulders feebly. his lips don’t seem to match the rest of his body curling away, still chasing the other without even realising, eyes foggy and half-lidded as they stare jinyoung down. there’s no strength to his hands, but there’s too much strength in his eyes, even with in their glassy and inattentive state. he’s dazed and pretty and jinyoung wants to press him down into the sheets and mess them up with their hands grabbing and legs arching and their hips crashing together - but there’s the knowledge that yugyeom looks like he wants to eat him up and jinyoung thinks he could, because yugyeom may be soft and shy-seeming in some moments but there’s also a confident edge to him that has jinyoung gulping. yugyeom dips to kiss him again, and he can feel the corner of his lips quirk up into a smirk, mouth dragging over chin then jaw then neck before there’s a thump and jinyoung registers that yugyeom has slid off his lap and fallen to his knees. 

jinyoung is malfunctioning. eyes widening. a sharp intake of breath. dainty fingers fiddle with the waistband of his pants, yugyeom peeking up at him through his eyelashes, and jinyoung questions whether or not the boy between his legs is even the slightest bit aware of the kind of non-lusting effect yugyeom has on him. one glance and jinyoung’s veins fill with a mix of fire and affection and it’s so utterly pathetic. he can only thank the fact that yugyeom is so wonderfully oblivious to the emotional turmoil swirling through his muddled brain, soft voice so distracting. “hyung, can i…” he doesn’t have to continue, because jinyoung is already nodding, far too eager for his own good. yugyeom grins up at him, teeth seeping into his smile and eyes squeezing into little crescents as the skin by his eyes crinkle, and jinyoung melts into the bed beneath him.

yugyeom pulls almost clumsily at the zipper of jinyoung’s pants and it’s barely there, but jinyoung can catch the continued quiver in his fingertips. there’s so many sides to yugyeom and jinyoung can barely catch his footing before he’s dragged into a different atmosphere, the confidence in how yugyeom slid between his thighs contrasted by the immature frustration of his pout as his hands fumble. his amused chuckle at yugyeom’s annoyance slips into a gasp when yugyeom manages to get a hand around his cock. it’s exhilarating, the feeling of yugyeom’s lips, plush and soft as they wrap around the head of his dick. jinyoung’s fingers brush gently through tangled strands, his whole body thrumming with anticipation as he watches in blatant awe. yugyeom sinks down, nervously, carefully, till his mouth is obscenely stretched wide and jinyoung’s hips are twitching beneath him. 

he bobs his head fully once or twice or thrice, eyes glistening with unshed tears formed from the force of pushing himself so far down on jinyoung’s cock that his nose brushes against jinyoung’s skin. the filthy wet noises of his mouth dragging flush yugyeom’s cheeks a flaring red, a harsh contrast to the light pink of jinyoung’s face as he stares down at the boy on his knees. “y-you’re good at this.” jinyoung sounds breathless, but there’s more to it, undertones of jealousy neither of them could miss. he wonders as his jaw tenses, if yugyeom has ever done this for anyone else, if he’s ever dropped to the floor so needy for carnal pleasure. he really, really doesn't want to think of yugyeom trapped in anyone else’s arms, sharing dirty kisses with a stranger, marred with bites from another man’s teeth. yugyeom is  _ his _ , has been ever since jinyoung turned his head in the practice room and caught the sight of a boy with a smile naive and blinding, even if the two of them were too young to realise it yet. 

yugyeom slides off, tongue accidentally dragging against the underside, and jinyoung just manages to stop his hips from bucking up at the sensation, feeling more desperate than he’s ever experienced in his life. thin fingers curl around his spit-slicked cock, tugging leisurely as yugyeom meets jinyoung’s gaze with wary, half-lidded eyes. “i haven’t done this before,” yugyeom’s voice wavers, pitching up every further, and he’s so bashful, seeming small and tiny in his embarrassment, so different from the confidence that filled his long frame just minutes prior. it’s cute and jinyoung realises without shame that he thinks about yugyeom being cute more often than what’s probably healthy, but he can’t quite help himself. “i just… thought about it. doing it. to you.”

jinyoung thinks about doing a lot of things to yugyeom too. when yugyeom came back to the dorm with words and a flower engraved in his sides, jinyoung imagined pressing kisses over the healing marks and tattooing his fingerprints into his soft skin. when the stylists called him in oversized shirts and chokers for an entire comeback, jinyoung thought of yugyeom drowning in the silky material and wearing absolutely nothing else and burying himself in between yugyeom’s squishy thighs. when yugyeom walks across the stage as if he owns it, in a tank top and ripped skinny jeans that outlines the shape of his figure so eye-catchingly, jinyoung daydreams of pinning him to a backstage wall and kissing him till their lungs hurt and both of them are late for the next performance. he’s thought of this, this very moment, his dick stuffed in yugyeom’s mouth and his hands clutching at yugyeom’s hair, too many times to count. 

a strangled groan escapes him when yugyeom sucks him back down, hand clutching the base as he works over the flesh with a warm tongue. it’s almost surreal (loving yugyeom so deeply, so physically, when he’s spent years hiding every little nervous tick behind a faked twitch of his brow and an  _ i will kill yugyeom  _ muttered under his breath) and an incredulous laugh builds up in his chest, close to bursting until he chokes on his next breath. yugyeom grips his thighs tight as his dick works past the opening of yugyeom’s throat and before he can hold himself back, jinyoung’s fingers lock painfully firm in the younger’s hair and he’s dragging yugyeom away quick and fast and the loss of touch burns but the wide-eyed expression he receives of a mouth slick with spit and pre-cum dropping open in confusion is worth depriving himself. “yugyeom-ah.” his own voice is deeper, huskier, the rasp behind his words so foreign. he’s tainted by lust and it’s changing him so utterly but he can’t find it in himself to care. losing his outward spotlessness is liberating and the look on yugyeom’s face is priceless. “i’m going to cum if you keep doing that.”

“we have all night, hyung,” yugyeom murmurs, an amused smile twitching onto his swollen lips. “you can wait a little longer to get me onto the bed, can’t you?” the argument is a little less than convincing, but the press of yugyeom’s lips on the dip of his stomach, sickly sweet and soft like his warm eyes, is persuasive enough. they have so little time, but jinyoung can’t help but cave into the other’s demands, even when he knows better.

jinyoung doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s alright with that if yugyeom is by his side.


End file.
